Page 51

Jesus. This really means I’m staying.

With Lucas. In the same apartment. For two months.

I don’t have the wherewithal to figure out if the feeling in my chest is excitement or nerves.

“I’ll stay,” I say in a tight voice. “In exchange for research help because I don’t want a free ride.”

His lip twitches with a smile. “God forbid anyone think you’re a freeloader.” A thoughtful look appears on his face. “On a similar note…any other rules we need in place? Since we’ll essentially be living together.”

“More like you’ll be my landlord,” I rush to correct.

He looks like he might say something, so I quickly push past it and mentally file through the usual rules. What do I normally find in leases?

“I won’t…have company over,” I say. “I understand that this is your home, and I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable with strangers being invited in.” He doesn’t need to know I have no real-life friends and that this wouldn’t happen anyway.

For some reason, Lucas goes completely still at this rule.

I wait for him to say something, to tell me what he’s thinking or why this is the rule that seems to have thrown him. He can’t have a problem with it, can he? Maybe if I told him I wanted to have people over.

Finally, he nods once, stiffly. “I would appreciate that, thank you.”

Weird. But okay.

“I only have one more,” I tell him firmly.

He quirks an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“This ends the day my case with you ends.”

He studies me, his thoughts hidden from my gaze. Then after a few seconds, he leans forward in his chair, his hand extended.

“Deal,” he says, his voice suddenly deeper than I’ve ever heard it.

It causes a shiver to run down my spine.

Ignoring it, I lean forward and clasp his hand in mine.

Unfortunately, his warm touch sends a very similar—but far more intense—shock through my body. I can’t take my eyes off him, can’t stop thinking about how the last time he touched me like this, we were locked in an elevator, moments after we shared the most electrifying kiss.

I swallow roughly. “Deal.”

SEVENTEEN

LUCAS

By the time I down my second espresso, I acknowledge that Charli’s either asleep, or simply not coming out of her room this morning. Either way, I can’t wait any longer. I have court this morning.

Sighing, I place my mug in the sink, adjust my tie, and grab my briefcase.

After we had our conversation yesterday, I offered to buy us dinner. That was the whole reason I knocked on her door, anyway. But after Charli set her new “rules,” she wouldn’t let me. She placed the takeout order. I managed to convince her to sit on the couch and watch some TV with me, but I didn’t have any luck turning it into another movie marathon. As soon as she was done with her food, she claimed she had work to do.

I asked her how her research was going, but she said something about working on a different case. Which just makes me more curious because what kind of side gigs does she pick up?

I have to put her out of my mind once I get to the courthouse, though. I can’t be distracted by thoughts of a sexy, black-haired, fishnet-wearing computer hacker.

It takes until I get back to the office after lunch to focus my brain. At which point, Charli knocks on my door and once again takes over all thoughts.

“Hey,” I greet, my voice far too chipper for my liking. I clear my throat and try again. “What are you doing here?”